


Larkspur

by CTtheOrangeNinja



Series: Hanahaki Disease [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CTtheOrangeNinja/pseuds/CTtheOrangeNinja
Summary: First time writing hanahaki disease fanfiction. Second part of the story finished! It's the next work in the series, titled "Roses."





	Larkspur

He covered his mouth as another wracking cough wrecked his throat, wincing at the bitter taste on his tongue. He spat out another flower and narrowed his eyes in disgust. He should’ve never agreed in the first place. He knew it was going to be trouble. Even at 17 he knew that Blue didn’t care for him like he cared for Blue, but the sex was at least _something_.

 

_Blue eyed him from across the room, eyes dark with want._

_It wasn’t a request._

_It wasn’t a demand, either._

_It was more of a habit than anything else._

_After all, they_ had _been fucking since they were both old enough to understand the concept._

_He tilted his head to the side, motioning towards his room at the Pokecenter._

_Blue nodded, and followed him to the bedroom, locking the door behind them._

 

Red sighed and pushed his hair back from his face, slowly getting to his feet. He had more to worry about today than the steady stream of blue flowers that choked his throat. It was his day to challenge the Elite Four, he needed to be at his best. His team was ready, he knew, but he had to make sure he was ready too.

 

 

_Hanahaki Disease. That was what the Pokecenter PC told him when he searched for “coughing up petals.” It was rare, with unknown scientific causes. The most widely accepted cause was ‘unrequited love.’ Even better, it seemed, it was fatal._

_It could be treated though, if the victim was willing to undergo an intensive surgery to remove the plants from the body. However, it seemed that once the plants were removed, the patient lost all memory of their once-love—the body’s version of insurance, it seemed. The only other way to treat it was to either fall out of love or have the love returned._

_His heart twisted at the thought of forgetting Blue, and he knew that he could never get over Blue. His only hope was that Blue learn to love him, but since he’d caught the other fucking that bitch from the Cerulean Gym he didn’t think that was likely to happen either._

_Well. Hopefully he made Champion before his death._

Lorelei and her team were easy enough for Pikachu and even Venasaur helped out with Slowbro. _Blue would have thought that using Venasuar was pointless and I should have just stuck with Pikachu._ He grimaced and shoved the flowers in the pockets of his jeans, forcing himself to focus.

Bruno was no match for Blastoise and Charizard. He wiped them out without even having to use a potion. _Blue would have used Cloyster and Ninetales…_ He drained the water bottle he had stashed in his backpack, resisting the urge to hack up even more flowers.

Agatha was tricky, but Alakazam defeated the ghost types easily. Snorlax handled the poison types, even though Red did have to use an antidote. _Blue probably could have gotten his team through unscathed._ He wished that the antidote would soothe the burning in his throat, but the water at least made it numb.

The doors opened to his next opponent, and he blinked, confused. There stood Lance, hands on his hips. “No, you haven’t counted wrong young man,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s a new champion up ahead. If you can get through me, that is.” What followed was the most intense battle he’d ever had. It had taken some incredibly strategic moves to keep his team’s health up. The Gyarados he’d let Pikachu zap with thunderbolt, barely scraping through after the returning hyper beam. Another thunderbolt and the water flying type was down, and Lance switched to Dragonair. Red followed suit and switched in Venasaur, the two trading blows back and forth until finally Venasaur came out on top. He let Snorlax and Alakazam tag-team the next Dragonair, and Blastoise handled the Aerodactyl. The Dragonite was the hardest to take down, requiring the combined efforts of Charizard, Pikachu, and Blastoise. _Blue would be impressed with me._ Red slumped to the floor after the victory, his stomach clenching and he promptly hacked up the larkspurs he had been holding in. He winced, seeing that they were stained with blood. Lance looked startled, taking two steps forward before seeing the flowers. “Young man,” he murmured, eyes understanding, “you should really let them go. Otherwise it _will_ kill you.” Red shook his head, wiping at the corners of his mouth and healing his team. Then he stepped through the door, ready to face the Champion.

 

_Crimson eyes stared in disbelief at the perfect flower in his hands. His throat had been sore for the last few days but he would have never thought it would get this bad. The petals had been coming for about two months, but for a bit there he had thought he was over him. They had ‘agreed to some space’ after Red had walked in on Blue, Misty, and Sabrina. And then, three months later, Blue had showed up again, making excuses and fucking him senseless._

_“What’ve you got there?”_

_He flinched and crushed his hand into a fist, hoping to hide the secret from his lover. His unrequited love. Damn._

_Blue flashed him a cocky grin, stepping close and taking Red’s hands in his own, gently uncurling his fingers._

_“A flower?” he asked, brow furrowed. “Looks like larkspur. Where’d you get it?”_

_Red bit his lip, pointing in a vague direction, not trusting his own voice not to give him away._

_Blue frowned, but shrugged, tossing the petal to the ground. “Whatever. Just make sure Pikachu doesn’t eat any of it, it’s toxic.”_

_Red felt his stomach plummet and he nodded weakly, watching as Blue returned to their tent._

_As soon as the other was out of sight, he dashed to the stream, vomiting up the contents of his stomach. Mixed in, he realized with dread, were even more larkspur flowers._

 

He froze at the familiar figure that stood in the center of the Champion’s room.

“Well, Red, I’m glad to see that you made it this far. I’ve been looking forward to beating your ass all day.” Blue smirked, tossing a pokeball up and down. The burning sensation in the back of his throat made his eyes water, but he fought back the cough. He couldn’t let Blue know. It was _his_ problem, not Blue’s. He reached for Pikachu’s ball, and his rival grinned. “That’s right, let’s get this party started!”

He was sweating. He had thought _Lance_ was bad? Not even close. It was always tough battling Blue, they knew each other too well. They had grown up together, had journeyed together, had slept together—everything was shared between them. Except love, of course. It was worse battling Blue since he had developed Hanahaki. It was nearly impossible to stop the larkspur from clogging his throat, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His pokemon weren’t doing too much better, but they held on. Blastoise took down Sandslash, then fainted to Exeggutor. Charizard soon took revenge. Pikachu took down Cloyster easily, but struggled against Ninetales. He withdrew Pikachu and sent out Alakazam. The psychic type was able to defeat the fire fox, but the burn wounds soon lead to him fainting as well. It was when Blue’s Alakazam fainted to Snorlax that he knew he had the upper hand. Blue cursed, bringing out Jolteon, and Red kept Snorlax in, underestimating the eveelution. Cursing, he brought out Venasaur, but the damage done from the grass type attacks was not enough, and soon he was forced to bring out Charizard. The fire type got in a few good attacks, burning his opponent before fainting. Then it was Pikachu vs Jolteon, just like their first battle. And, just like their first battle, Red finally won.

Blue fell to his knees, the pokeball slipping from his fingers. He curled his fingers in his hair and screamed, “DAMN IT!” Red took a step forward, reaching out for the other, but Blue looked up, eyes burning with hatred. “Why?” he choked, curling his arms around himself. “Why do I always lose to _you_?” Red shook his head, shoulders tensing as he felt another coughing fit crawling up his throat. “I _hate_ you.” Blue snarled, suddenly on his feet and lunging at Red. The taller boy pushed him to the ground, fingers curled in Red’s jacket. Crimson eyes went wide as he felt Blue’s tears splash on his face. “ _I hate you so much_. You couldn’t just let me have the Championship, could you? Not even for _one day_?! _I_ made it here before you, _I_ defeated the Four _and_ Lance, _I_ —”

“That’s enough.” They both turned to see Professor Oak enter the room, and Blue stiffened above him. “Let the Champion up, son.”

Blue’s face twisted, and he stood, turning to face his grandfather. “ _Really_ old man? You don’t show up when I beat Lance but you show up for _him_? You never acknowledge my accomplishments, but you acknowledge _his_? What? Am I not good enough for you?” he hissed, glaring down at Red. “I don’t see what’s so special about him.”

Red couldn’t hold back any longer, and he sat up, hacking and coughing as Blue and Oak watched in shocked silence. He didn’t know how long the fit lasted. When his shoulders stopped shaking and his throat burned but he felt like he could breathe again, there was a pile of flowers underneath him. He wiped at the corners of his mouth and turned to face Blue, eyes dull.

His rival was sheet-white, a horrified expression on his face. “Wh-what the hell, Red? You’re-you’re coughing out _flowers_. Larkspur? They’re…they’re toxic you know, you shouldn’t be eating them and—”

“Hanahaki Disease.” Oak muttered, glancing between the two boys. “Red, why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”

“A disease?” Blue asked, stepping back. “He’s fucking sick?” His eyes were wide with fear and Red sighed, knowing that Blue was scared that he had caught it from him while they were fooling around.

“It’s not contagious.” He whispered, getting to his feet and wincing as Pikachu jumped up and settled on his shoulder. He knew he probably wasn’t making any sense, but he just…he felt so _tired_. He couldn’t do this anymore. Not after Blue said he _hated_ him. “Professor, I’m ready.”

Oak still looked worried, but nodded, taking Red into the adjacent room, registering his team as champions. “Red, you’re this far along, you need the surgery. I know you probably don’t want to forget them, but—” he trailed off as Red shook his head.

“No.” he whispered, rubbing at his throat.

He couldn’t help but wonder if life would hold any meaning after Blue.

He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, crushing the larkspur he’d stashed there.

“I’m ready. He hates me anyway.”

 

 

He blinked in at the white light above him, sitting up slowly.

“Ah! You’re awake.” He turned to see Professor Oak sitting beside the bed, a magazine in hand. “I sent your mother home. She wasn’t getting any rest.”

He nodded, confused. “What about my match—” he stopped as his voice scratched uncomfortably in his throat and motioned for the water that was sitting beside Oak. He drank as Oak explained.

“You beat the Elite Four easily. I knew you would.” The professor smiled gently at him. “The Champion match was more difficult, but you won in the end.”

“Can’t remember.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around himself.

“That’s normal. It was very intense, and you were probably scared for your team’s well-being. Don’t stress over it.” Red frowned but nodded. “You should get some more sleep. I’ll step out to let you have your privacy.”

He watched as the Professor left the room, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.

He couldn’t help but think there was something very important missing from his memory.

Like, something or someone who had always been there.

And now they weren’t.

He shook his head and pushed the thought out of his mind, drifting off to sleep, unaware of the figure that stood outside the window, hands shoved in his pockets and head bowed.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, throat tightening as he held back a sob.

The boy couldn’t stop the tears gathering in his eyes, or the overwhelming feeling of guilt that washed over him.

He also couldn’t stop the single rose petal that escaped his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing hanahaki disease fanfiction. Second part of the story finished! It's the next work in the series, titled "Roses."


End file.
